


Glass of Time

by Amemait, LaceFedora



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, GFY, There are more pairings which will all be added as they become relevant, as will characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemait/pseuds/Amemait, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceFedora/pseuds/LaceFedora
Summary: The year is 1996, and Captain Kathryn Janeway is having the kind of day that makes her envy all those in Starfleet who have never had to deal with Time Travel.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewriting this and other currently-posted chapters because everything we've got prepped for this is is in present tense and I'm tired of editing it to match past-tense when there's so much good stuff to come.

The man could tell anyone who had the right knowledge to know that they could ask the question, precisely how long he’s been here.

To the minute, if he wished.

He could say how he’d watched his hair start to gray from the pressures of hiding everything of who and what he was, especially in this here and this now.

He could tell of how he’d once expected rescue – but that after the first few years, he’d come to give up on that. Lose his hope of it.

He certainly wasn’t angry - how could he be? It wasn’t as though they could know where he was.

When he was.

He simply missed them. Though he’d made some few new friends in this mess, he still missed them. A family he’d had and now would never know again.

A family he’d been been granted the good fortune to find and to join, and who by good fortune had made it mostly-alive and mostly-intact out of a war that had killed literally billions.

But in this here and in this now, the man turns his tie - a foible of the local fashions - into a double-Windsor knot at his throat and feels strangled by it and the knots in his timeline both.

It’s another moment of staring at himself in the mirror, his mind conjuring up the ghost of what he’d once looked like before this had begun, and comparing it to his now, and silently mourning each and every difference, before a small vibrating alert drew his attention.

The pen buzzed softly as he extracted it from his blazer’s inner pocket, an insistent noise.

The existence of such an alert was not entirely unknown. The cause, however? Unknown as-yet, but this was an alert he’d programmed himself, not one of those which indicated one of his new friends wished to converse.

He frowns at the pen in his hand, then headed to the workbench he’d long-disguised as a coffee table, pulling up the lid and starting to work.

The Beta Six’s full alert was visible on his screen, and the man traces it with a reverent fingertip, eyes wide before he flicks on his communications array. “Computer, trace any energy signature matching this pattern.”

“Working,” the device informs him cheerfully, still a little behind the computers he’d once been used to - and the timelag from where he was to the Beta Six’s actual location a hindrance, but-

“Working complete. Energy Signature detected and traced this location,” it announces, and the image flickered onto LCD (such an improvement on the CRT he’d originally installed in the machine).

The man stares as the screen fills up, and a few more alerts go off.

Communicative transmissions from surface to space.

The transmissions - and the energy pattern of a transporter beam - were coming from within a few kilometres of his present location? Was this indeed a rescue?

He frowns, taps the keyboard again, and steals a few precious seconds of satellite time to confirm-

There.

The emissions associated with a Warp Drive Field. Faint, as though they were pulling up, but well and truly faster and more efficient than the Warp Five the Vulcans were pulling at the moment.

He downloads the initial trace information to a small device he could pass off as a personal organiser, shoves his precious tricorder into his messenger bag, grabs keys to things he’d had to get used to using in this time and in this place, and sprints for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

The man’s jaw drops when he finally gets a good look at his quarry, a quick glance as he peered around the alleyway corner at them, pretending to be merely a curious onlooker to this police interaction with a homeless man – Braxton, sometimes called ‘the Captain’.

One of his usual checkins, as it happened; he’d leave food for Braxton while the DTI Captain was out, and he’d destroy those of Braxton’s signs which could be more dangerous to the timestream.

If Aegis found out, they would of course be both pleased and disappointed - pleased that he’d been protecting the timestream as was their agreement, and disappointed that he’d been dealing in any way with a member of Starfleet’s DTI, even if the Captain himself had no idea.

But.

Braxton was not his task today.

He didn’t recognise who was with her, but the woman…

Captain Kathryn Janeway, Voyager. No doubt about it, his memory was perfect after all.

“We’ll have to worry about him later. Right now, we’ve got to find Starling,” Janeway announces to her companion once Braxton was chased away by the officers, and…

He couldn’t not reveal himself. To sneak around after realising who it was, would be disingenuous.

“I might be able to help you with that part,” the man makes his own announcement, loud enough to be heard as he steps out from around the corner. Janeway and her companion both reach around in a way achingly familiar to the newcomer, both clearly starting for their phasers. He smiles, and spreads his hands, showing he wasn’t currently armed. “Probably a good thing you didn’t do that while the cops were still here. Before this conversation goes any further however, I do need something important from you: What’s the date?”

“You should know the date just as well as we do,” Janeway replies, clearly going for another bluff, the same way she’d bluffed with a gesture and a smile the police who’d just hared off after Braxton.

The man tips his head. “What is the Stardate, Captain Janeway, at your measurement previous to this aberration?” he asks, hoping for two miracles in one day. Now that there was this chance before him, oh, it would be the second miracle of the day for her to have come from after Voyager went missing.

“When we were thrown here it was 50312.5,” she answers after another glance with her travelling companion. “Let me guess; another DTI officer sent to rescue or keep an eye on Braxton?”

“Hardly, Captain.” And it was a miracle on two counts. Thank the Prophets and Sisko, it was a miracle on all counts.

“No, I’m not with the DTI, Captain. Just someone else temporarily displaced to the 1990s. Lieutenant Commander Bashir, Doctor. We met briefly, before you left for the Badlands. And you have no idea how glad I am to see you - please tell me there’s room for one more in your crew?”

Janeway blinks at him, taking a half-step backwards, bumping into her companion. “I don’t believe it… Chakotay... May I introduce to you, Doctor Julian Bashir... the Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine.” He'd been such a fresh‑faced young man, she was surprised he was CMO. Not this graying man before her. “And... I could allow you to come with us Doctor... but you should know... Going home doesn’t mean going back. We've been stranded in the Delta Quadrant for three years...”

“Every day I run the risk of corrupting the time stream. Where you are is infinitely safer from that point of view. But we should not be discussing this here. I have a car?” Bashir offers.

"I don't suppose you know how we might find this Henry Starling?" Janeway asks, getting out her tricorder to scan him - she didn't know who might come up with a trick so elaborate as this, but still. Never believe what your eyes are telling you, in a situation like this.

“It’s really easy to spot his company’s building,” Bashir snorts, but lets her scan away.

"Then the car will come in handy,” Chakotay eyes the results of the scan over Kathryn's shoulder.

“Very true - but later. My apartment’s closer for strategising first.”

"...All right." She agreed. "But we are on a bit of a deadline. Sometime soon Starling’s going to be launching a timeship."

Bashir lifts an eyebrow. “We could try for a beam out if that would be faster?”

"Transporters are down." She shakes her head. "At least the long-range transporters."

“Not good.” Bashir frowns, and gestures them out of the alleyway. “But we’ll think of something I’m sure.” He blinks, making a show of pretending not to know as they make their way to the car - not too much of a distance, fortunately. He’d gotten very lucky with parking today.. “I don’t recall your name on Voyager’s initial manifest, Mr. Chakotay...”

"I guess it's Commander now. And that's because I'm not on the manifest. When we were thrown into the Delta Quadrant my crew came onboard Voyager. Fortunately, many of us had Starfleet training already."

Bashir nodded. “Maquis?” He keeps his tone light and non-judgemental as he unlocks the car and climbs in.

"Guilty." Chakotay answers, watching Bashir closely. Being on DS9 he could have had a lot of contact with the Maquis.

"While we were pursuing them both our ships were plucked up by an entity called the Caretaker. Stranded in a similar situation, we merged crews." Janeway continues, casting a smile at Chakotay.

"It helped that the Val Jean was about to explode." Chakotay smirks back at her.

“That would certainly expedite a situation,” Bashir agrees, pulling on a seatbelt. “And if Captain Janeway’s giving you the vote of confidence, that’s all I need.”

"Good, we're a pretty deeply integrated crew at this point." Janeway says, after a few moments of fighting with the vehicle’s crash-restraints. "And I appreciate your vote of confidence in me, given that we only met the once."

“I’ve read your service record and a lot of your scientific papers - and Starfleet doesn’t usually just hand out Captaincies for nothing.”

"Well… there are some captains I've met…" Chakotay jokes, and Janeway swats him lightly, and just that was enough to make Bashir relax entirely.

Which had probably been their intention.

Driving is easy. “I am not going to miss this. LA traffic is so ridiculous in nature as to be practically a living entity all of its own, albeit one with limited sentience.”

“I’ve always preferred a shuttlecraft myself,” Chakotay comments.

Julian laughs. “Me too. There are a thousand things I’m not going to miss Captain, Commander.”

She watches him. “No one understands wanting to get home better than all of us.” She tells him. “Even if this is Earth, it’s not quite home.”

“I want a Starfleet uniform, never to wear a tie again in my life ever, and to only need to think about money if I have to.”

“We tend to stick to barter, Though the crew does like to make bets with Replicator rations.”

“I might be able to squeeze out more power for the replicators.”

That’s a surprised look from both of them. “I’ll have to tell you why later, but in summary, we needed to conserve a lot of power.”

“My crew would be grateful but you'll need to get to know the ship first, Voyager is different. than your average vessel.”

“Intrepid class. Standard crew complement 200. Bio-neural Gelpak system.” He grins. “And absolutely beautiful.”

She smiles. “That she is... and now she's a home.”

“She’s stunning. The way the engines reposition so she can break the cosmic speed limit safely, what an ingenious solution. So simple in concept and stunning in execution.”

Julian drums his thumbs on the steering wheel at the lights.

“It's been useful for us, the last thing my crew needs is to stress about all the time we spend in Warp.... not really what Starfleet designed it for but its nice to know we aren't harming this environment we've been travelling through.”

“I assume that’s Voyager in a high orbit? You might want to tell her to get a bit more distance.” It’s a sharp change of topic.

"Why's that?" Janeway asks, reaching into her pocket for her commbadge.

“Well, if I can still pick up Voyager’s orbit, using things I’ve cobbled together and only a very little assistance, a dedicated observatory might get lucky.”

“That doesn’t sound like an ideal situation,” she agrees. “Janeway to Voyager. Mr Kim, take her out a few thousand more kilometres. Luna's dark side springs to mind.”

“Acknowledged,” the commbadge answers, and Bashir can hear the quiet beeps and hums of commands being input on a bridge.

“We’ve acquired an unexpected friend - Doctor Bashir of Deep Space Nine,” she continues. “Have someone prep some quarters near Sickbay.”

Bashir glances over at her. Right then, Captain Kathryn Janeway was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen in his life. “What do you need to know about Starling?”

"Anything you know could help." she say after she finishes with her sitrep. "Right now, what we know is he has a timeship and he intends to launch it... according to Braxton a mis-calibration is going to cause a cataclysmic explosion."

“One day, we’re going to find a member of Starfleet who hasn’t dealt with a Temporal Paradox, and we’re going to wish really hard that we could exchange places with them,” Julian sighs. “Starling’s fairly-typical of this era’s capitalism. Runs a microchip computer company. Known for being appallingly polite while ruthless.”

"Sounds charming." Chakotay says dryly. "How long have you been here?"

“About eight years. Was that Harry Kim?”

"Why yes it was. Have you met?" She asks - it wasn't entirely unlikely.

“No but I’ve met his parents and am now tasked with giving him a hug.”

Chakotay laughs a little. "Harry could probably use one after this. He has the bridge while we're down here."

“They came lookign for him?” Janeway asks the Doctor, looking him over. “They sent me a message just as we were about to leave...”

“Yeah. With his musical instruments. So. Hug for Harry Kim. Right on the list.”

“I’m tempted to quote Starfleet regulations about Away Teams and how they shouldn’t include both the Captain and the First Officer...” Bashir drawls, testing the waters.

"We're terrible at following that rule. And we all had skills useful to this particular mission." Chakotay offers.

“Who else is down here?” Bashir pulls into the parking garage. “Told you it was close.” Oh, fantastically close. Prophets and Sisko, this had to be the reason he was here.

"My head of security, Tuvok and, helmsman Tom Paris are looking into someone who may have detected us.” Janeway admits.

“Paris as in the shuttle accident while I was at the academy?” Bashir gave a sidelong look. “This is going to be an interesting story swap. I’m on the fourth floor.”

“I actually pulled Paris out of the New Zealand Penal colony." Janeway comments as they head for the elevator.

"The thinking was that Tom had a lot of knowledge about the Maquis." Chakotay adds still amused by it.

Bashir beams, punching the correct button in the elevator, and marvelling at how normal this conversation felt. “And did he?”

"Not as much as he thought he did." Chakotay chuckles. "He was a terrible Maquis. He's proved himself a better officer."

“You know, I’m actually glad to hear that?” Bashir holds a finger to his lips as he leads the way into the corridor. Janeway and Chakotay remain silent until they reach the apartment, though they do both look around curiously.

For his part, Bashir unlocks the door, and presses a subtle finger to the thumbprint scanner. Locking the door behind him and flicking on a comm-jammer is almost too paranoid, but he does it anyway. "Make yourself at home Commander - the lid lifts up on that coffee table, you’ll find my computer setup underneath. I need to give the Captain a very quick briefing."

Chakotay exchanged a look with Janeway, waiting for her nod. "All right, but we are on a clock here," he says, heading over to the couch.

Bashir nods at the bedroom for some semblance of privacy. "I promise it's going to be the fastest briefing you've ever had."

"You know we don't keep many secrets on Voyager. Things are more expedient if Chakotay is informed too." Janeway notes, but does follow.

"One’s Temporal and the other one's Medical," Bashir shrugs and shut the door between them. "Two things you need to know before you let me aboard Voyager: First, when I left our time, it was a few years ahead of where you just dropped in from. It's up to you if you want to risk the Temporal Physics and Ethics involved." Please say yes, fine, please, Julian bites his lip, trying not to hold his breath. Surely she'd be fine with that?

"I'm hardly going to leave a man stranded here in the twentieth century," the Captain informs him, blinking.

Julian shuts his eyes, relief probably written over every line of his face. "Thank you. But I won't hold you to that with my next words, though I'll preface this part by telling you that Starfleet knows, and they still promoted me." He opens his eyes again but winced in advance of what her reaction might be. "I'm an Augment."

"...As in a Human Augment," the Captain says slowly, looking him over.

Well. Tuvok did say she was known for her illogical snap-decisions working out well.

"If you're not some kind of person that's going to immediately attempt to take over Voyager when we return, then I'm still not going to leave you stranded,” is her declaration. “On this ship I have an ex-smuggler serving as my chef and moral officer, and a man convicted of treason is my helm officer. I have a hologrammatic CMO, and more than a dozen former-Maquis that have had to assimilate into my crew. If Starfleet didn't arrest you for what you are? Who am I to judge?”

It was probably provisional, she'd be a fool if it weren't, but it was certainly the best response Julian could have hoped for. For every Julian Bashir that can be created, there's a Khan Singh waiting in the wings, Julian knows the relief shows on his face and he truly doesn’t care. "Oh Captain I could kiss you. Thank you," he breathes. "Technically this is a medical concern, so I'm allowed to ask you not to share the information with the rest of your crew, but I'm willing to let your CMO know, and your Chief of Security. Your First Officer... might take a little while. I'd like to know most of the crew before they know my subspecies, I've found that people who know me before they know about that tend to, ah, accept me more readily."

"I can understand that... but Chakotay isn’t going to be one to judge you." Janeway tells him, sounding quite certain of it. Clearly still more than a little in shock at the concept, but certain in her First Officer’s acceptance of her decision.

Julian smiles. “I’m sure he won’t. When I tell him.”

"Very well... anything else?" she asks him, as though that hadn't been enough revelation right there.

“I have friends in the here and now who have access to a transporter, but there won’t be any point in us getting to Starling’s office before the place is closed for the night.” That ought to be enough of a curveball (baseball metaphor, Sisko would be so proud) to make her glare at him.

He isn't disappointed on that front. “This we can discuss with Chakotay," she tells him, eyes wide as she motions him back out again.

Julian trots after her, a smile on his face. Starfleet. A ship. Home. He could almost taste it.

"He thinks we should wait until the office is closed. Go in under the cover of night," Janeway said, catching up Chakotay as they left the room.

"I assume that wasn't what the briefing was actually about?" Julian makes a mental note about Chakotay’s perceptive capabilities at the question. Which was probably just as well, considering the position he occupied as First Officer.

"The Temporal Prime Directive is a pain, Sir," Julian wrinkles his nose. "Also, I have friends with a transporter, which would make this entire endeavour easier."

“A transporter? It would make it a lot easier to get into what I assume is a secure building." Chakotay agreed, doing a remarkable job at hiding his surprise. Unflappable, Julian added to his personal notes.

“Secure doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Julian walks over the coffee table, the lid of which Chakotay had already lifted. “Sorry about the bad ergonomics and worse interface;glass technology isn’t even remotely to our standards yet, and neither is voice recognition. Keyboard and mouse it is, but I did get lucky with the stylus input in place of the mouse, if you’d find that easier to use.” Bashir tilts the screen up to start bringing up what readings he can get on the building.

Chakotay smiles. “This will work just fine.” he tells the doctor. “If anything, I think our engineer might steal you from Sickbay. As for the rest of that tech, it won't be far behind if we don’t succeed today... we've discovered that almost all the leaps in technology made in this area were due to accidental temporal interferance...”

Julian winces. “I’ve always hated this era of history, but I did some research after Sisko and I got trapped in the Bell Riots - that was about a year after you left. I always hoped it’d be closing the gate after the horse has bolted - but of course it wasn’t. The sudden technological shift didn’t ever make sense to me, even with the advances necessitated by Khan’s wars - time travel would explain a great deal. How long has this Timeship been here?”

"According to Braxton, his ship crashed in 1967."

“Oh, what, that thing? Geez I thought it was buried and didn’t even work anym- oh it’s moved.” Julian taps the controls quickly. “It’s on the top floor - behind a couple of forcefields though. We’ll have to go there directly, and there probably won’t be a way out that isn’t beaming.” He frowns, tapping the sequence to call the base directly. “Bashir to Mestral. I might be getting a lift home. Anybody using the transporter?”

"Not at this time..." answers a voice with a distinct Vulcan cadence. Chakotay and Janeway share a look that speaks volumes of their own surprise.

“Think the others would mind?” Bashir pauses, glancing over at Janeway and Chakotay for a second, acknowledging their responses. “Actually… would you mind coming over for a bit? We could use your help on this: It’s Starling.”

“We, Julian?”

“I have some visitors.”

“The others are in Europe, but I will be there soon.” There was the obvious sound of an open communication cutting off.

"I didn't expect you would have a Vulcan contact in this era." Janeway said slowly.

“Is he that obvious?” Julian says lightly, changing the view to a map overlay before he glances over at them again. “If it’s any consolation, he didn’t expect me to speak Vulcan to him when we first met.” Another setting tap. “I’m still picking up Voyager in orbit, but this system and the one it’s tied into right now are both designed to track ships in orbit, so she’s probably fine where she is. You want anything to drink?” He stands, a ball of nervous energy.

"Some water would be nice," Chakotay requests, for something to say as this day became stranger and stranger.

“It is hot out there,” Julian remarks, heading for the kitchen. Tea for Mestral, water for Chakotay, and... he looked at Captain Janeway. “Obscenely strong black coffee for you, Captain?”

She looks back at him and raised a brow. 'We did only meet once didn't we?"

Julian grins. “I’ll take that as a yes, please, real coffee,” he replies, setting the kettle.

"He certainly has your number." Chakotay smirks at her. It looked as though someone might have a crush.

“You sure you don’t want anything more substantial than water, Commander?” Julian asks politely, looking Chakotay up and down. “You strike me as a tea person.”

"I am, but water for now is fine... I might ask you to bring your tea stash along though." He smiles at Bashir, accepting the glass of water. “Thanks.”

“Okay, tell me about the supplies situation up there and I’ll see what we can do with the remaining daylight hours,” Julian feels as though he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as the sound of boiling water changed to the right tone for 96 degrees Celsius - perfect for Janeway’s coffee, but Mestral’s tea needed to be a little hotter still.

"Well we aren't in dire straits... Kes has started an airponics bay, but it's not very big yet…" Chakotay begins slowly.

“What I’m hearing there is is seeds and seedlings, vitamin supplements so there’s less strain on the replicators, treats, and basic daily essentials. That last category is tea and coffee. We’ve got at least six hours before that building will be empty enough to sneak into, I think that’s enough time to get a lot of that.” He presses the coffee for Janeway and himself with one hand, poured boiling water for the tea with the other, and finally handed her a full mug. “Mestral has impeccable timing, so he’ll be here as soon as the tea’s actually ready.”

Janeway blinks, but leans her face over the coffee mug to breathe deeply, shutting her eyes and missing the fond smile Chakotay gives her at this reaction. It had been _years_.

Julian watches her. “Oh, we’re definitely getting essentials.”

"It's not a bad plan Captain." Chakotay agrees and nods a bit. "And it would probably be good for morale."

Julian sips his coffee, and began a mental countdown. Five, four, three, two, one- The slight whine of an early transporter caught his ears. “Tea’s ready.”

“Thank you, Julian.”

Chakotay and Kathryn looked at the Vulcan, both more than a little surprised to hear the gratitude vocalised that way.

Julian nodded at both of them. “Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. Both from my time of the continuum. Sirs, Mestral of Vulcan.”

“Ah. The ship in orbit?” Mestral enquires, politely picking up the cup on the kitchen bench.

“Theirs,” Julian affirms.

Mestral nods politely, and removed his hat. His hair was cut slightly shaggier than most Vulcans they'd met, but there was no mistaking the ears once you knew to look for them.

"Nice to meet you," Janeway tells him, knowing full well that Vulcans weren’t much for pleasantries.

“Julian says you need some assistance?” Mestral is as all-business as Janeway had expected.

"If you're willing to lend it." Janeway says. "We believe an event is about to happen that will destroy Earth and perhaps a large chunk of the quadrant in the 29th century.” Verbally stepping through the timesteam was difficult enough.

“Gary was right: Starling stole a Timeship,” Julian summarises because he knew what Mestral already did. “Also, they need supplies for their ship.”

"Have either of you met Captain Braxton?" Janeway asks.

“If that is a Temporal Agent, we avoid them,” Mestral intones. “They have their own business and we ours.”

“Once or twice, but not that he knows it,” Julian continues. “I’ve followed him a couple of times so I can scrub a few signs of his that would have been dangerous – but we’re not allowed to be involved with Temporal Agents. Ever.” He glares for a moment at Mestral, who looks as utterly unrepentant as a Vulcan ever did.

“Julian has made his stance on this particular aspect of our work quite clear,” Mestral sips his tea, unruffled by the human’s disagreement. “But it is an unfortunate requirement. We do not involve ourselves with the Temporal Agents, even those ones who are insistent upon breaking the Temporal Prime Directive. No matter how bad it may become for them, the DTI will always repair their timeline and make their own agents comfortable. Once that process is complete, everything he’s been through will have never occurred. Including injuries and illnesses, and on occasion several years of ageing."

"I can understand being angry over what Starling did... but breaking the Temporal Prime Directive seems to me like it's going a bit far," Janeway muses, deciding to set aside that particular conundrum for later.

“He’s homeless. It can give a person serious mental problems.” Julian shrugs. “I take it he’s the legitimate owner of the Timeship? We’ll probably need to pick him up later - but Timeship first, and any supplies we can get in the interim.”

“Does your ship not have a Transporter, Captain?” Mestral enquires, and Janeway could feel herself under the same sort of scrutiny Tuvok could give.

"Long range transporters were knocked out when we came through the rift," she informs him. "My Chief Engineer and her team are on it."

A pointed Vulcan eyebrow. "Then how did you get down to Earth?"

“Mestral, I appreciate the over-protection, but I have met Captain Janeway before,” Julian says patiently, which earned him his own eyebrow.

"We brought a shuttle into range with the cloud cover and beamed us down." Janeway indulges.

Mestral nodded. "I assume you would not be able to do the same manoeuvre for the Timeship - judging by Julian's previous readings on the machine, it would be too large for a shuttlecraft of the size I suspect you have. I believe I can use our transporter to get you into a place where you can set appropriate pattern buffer enhancers around the ship. But Julian also mentioned supplies. Would you be willing to repeat the shuttle transfer for those?"

"Yes, we can always pick them up somewhere remote." Janeway agrees. "I'm just trying not to have twenty-fourth century technology on display for the locals." She added.

"Which means I should probably take my equipment with me too. Sorry Mestral," Bashir apologises.

"Leave the Dermal Regenerator, and Natalie will forgive you for not saying a proper farewell." If Janeway hadn't known better, she would have thought there was a fondness to the Vulcan's tone.

"Agreed," Julian nods, and Janeway wants to order against that, but something told her to leave it. They had bigger fish to fry, and a single piece of relatively minor medical equipment, in the hands of people who obviously already knew it existed, was probably too small in the scheme of things to matter all that much. Even so...

"Are there supplies you need…?" Kathryn asks aloud, more to gauge the Vulcan's sincerity, a thought she'd never believed she'd have to think.

"No-" Mestral begins, but Bashir cuts him off quickly.

"Yes, you do, don't lie," Julian rolls his eyes. "He needs a selection of standard Vulcan vitamin supplements, at minimum enough to last at least until First Contact, preferably longer. I can supply the list."

"Longer than that?" Chakotay echoes.

Mestral has the good grace to duck his head slightly, very human. "I am officially recorded as deceased.'

"In short, Mestral is not here at the behest or with the knowledge of the Vulcan government." Julian nods.

"So, you're actually in the right time period?" Kathryn asks him.

"I landed on Earth in 1957, Captain. I subsequently convinced the other members of my crew to leave me behind," Mestral admits.

"Pre-re-reformation Vulcans aren't quite like the Vulcans we know, Captain," Julian continues. "I doubt they'll take kindly to his proving to be alive and well."

"I'll leave it off the record." Janeway agrees. She was agreeing to a lot of strange things today, evidently. "And we'll see what we can do about some vitamins for you."

"No further supplies are in the least necessary, Captain. Thank you."

"Whatever we can do to help." She smiles at him gently.

Julian bites his lip. “Okay. Captain, can you put together a supplies list within the next fifteen minutes?”

"We'll do what we can... We only have some spending money on us though." Janeway answers.

“That is not going to be a problem. I’m coming with you, which means I don’t need my savings, and Aegis doesn’t need it either.”

"Aegis?" Kathryn repeats.

“The people paying for this apartment,” Julian summarises in the face of Mestral’s own disapproving glance.

"Ah," she says, clearly making a note to quiz him more about that later. "So long as I'm not condoning any theft here."

Julian smiles at her like he really could kiss her.

"We should call Tom and Tuvok ... they're going to need an update on all this. You do that while I make a list," she orders Chakotay.

“And I’ll sort out some tactics with Mestral,” Bashir keeps smiling at her.

“I think Neelix and the Doctor already have a list together?” Chakotay suggests.

"You're right, they might. I'll contact the ship."


	3. Chapter 3

“Shuttle reports ready to beam down the equipment you requested Captain,” Harry calls.

“Excellent. Standby.” Janeway looks over at Mestral. “Wait a few moments and we’ll have those vitamins?”

"Thank you, Captain, Commander."

"We're happy to help." Chakotay says. This certainly wasn't what they expected in the 1990s.

“Energise,” Janeway orders.

One selection of appropriate vitamins, one phaser for each of them, and a selection of transporter pattern enhancers arrive, accompanied by sparkling blue lines and that almost musical note that Julian had missed so much. The transporter in use by Aegis was certainly serviceable, but it looked and sounded almost harsh compared to the ones Julian had grown up with.

“I will arrange for those things you have requested to be transported to this apartment, Captain. I cannot guarantee they will all be available, but I will prioritise the plant matter and Julian’s medical requests.” Mestral bows his head, holding onto his case of supplies like the lifeline it was.

“Thank you, Mestral,” Janeway says gravely, then raises her hand in the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”

Mestral lifted an eyebrow - her accent was parsecs better than Julian’s - and returns the gesture. “Peace, and long life,” he replies, then replaces his hat and tapped his pen for his own beamout.

“Well. That was… unexpected.” Janeway pauses. “I don’t recall Vulcans in the records pre-First Contact…” she begins slowly, a subject she hadn't been going to broach while Mestral was still there.

"That's because no one ever wrote about Mestral. His shipmates were very loyal." Julian says, though he frowns. “He’s got a picture of them he showed me once. Once of them looked a surprising amount like Commander T’Pol from the original Enterprise, enough that I’d dearly like to know if they were related.”

“I see. Should we put Tuvok on the communications device you have and just not tell him in advance?” Chakotay suggests, not entirely teasing.

“He’d probably like that; the first thing he commented on when they caught me and I said hello to him, was how atrocious my accent was.” Julian grins at the memory. He’s smiling a lot today.

"They caught you?" Janeway asks, curious.

“You can’t land the way I did and not be caught by Aegis. Which is to say I materialised at a baseball game right next to one of their agents, who promptly caught me and complained bitterly that this was the first time she’d had a holiday in years and there I was ruining it for her. They wanted to know who was in orbit, and your beamdown set off their alerts, by the way. I was closest.”

"So you came to check on us," she concludes. "Then realized we might be from the same era as you."

Julian keeps working on the simulation of the planned visit to Starling’s building. “I recognised you.” He looks up and smiles at her. “But I saw the Federation signature in the Warp Drive field and felt… hope.” Julian retrieves his commbadge from the inside of his desk computer terminal. “Could you patch me into the ship’s systems?”

Janeway pauses. “You still have your commbadge? After so many years…”

“Hope, Captain, is a many-splendoured thing, and I’d dearly like to keep this one. Captain Sisko gave it to me.”

“I wouldn't dream of taking it from you.” Janeway assures him, accepting the badge and holding it up to her tricorder to synchronise. “So you’ve been down here for eight years now… I suppose it's a good thing for you that we're all the way out in the Delta Quadrant. By the time we make it home you'll be all caught up.”

In the expression that Julian gives her, he’s swiftly as young as she probably remembered meeting him, before he sobers enough to give his next words the gravitas they deserve. “I’ve no second thoughts. It would be an honour and a privilege to serve aboard Voyager, sir.”

Janeway looks at him warningly. "I prefer Captain. Ma'am will do in a pinch."

Bashir nods. "Of course, Captain."

"It's pretty rough terrain. We could use another Doctor on staff." Chakotay says.

"True… our CMO and his two nurses were killed when we were pulled through space." Janeway informs him, handing back the commbadge. "We have a CMO now. He's our EMH."

Julian blinks. “If he’s been online that long he’s probably sentient. I’m not switching him off.”

Janeway smiles at the remark – it didn’t sound too far off the truth, now she thought on it. "We didn't have any intention of turning off the Doctor. He's one of us now," she assures. "But I'm sure he'll be pleased to have another doctor onboard.

"So will I. Shift work is significantly more sensible than constantly being on call."

"Were you always on call on DS9?" she asks, handing him back the badge.

"Only for Starfleet personnel and emergencies - most of the civilians could be seen by Doctor Girani. But the Defiant was another story."

"Was the Defiant another ship you served on?" The name of the ship was familiar, of course, but not the name of a recent ship.

Julian looks at her and doesn’t want to tell her, regrets mentioning the name. "A warship," he whispers, because she deserves to know.

"A Federation Warship?" Chakotay asks in surprise.

"A Starfleet Warship." Julian's face twists as he confirms. "Very small, and the reason for a lot of my diversified skillset, outside the normal range of Medical and Science Officer. I was also Second-Tactical, and the Defiant was small enough to occasionally require double- or even triple-duty from her crew. I had to use my Engineering Extension courses onboard a lot as well, because Chief O’Brien couldn’t do everything at once and at least trusted me to do things that required the minimum amount of fixing after the fact."

"…Should we ask what would drive Starfleet to develop a Warship?" Janeway asks slowly.

“What else? A war.” He swallows, but looks back at her. "But the initial designs and tests on its class were completed before you left the Alpha Quadrant - it was initially meant to fight the Borg. Four decks, standard crew complement forty, but we could go up to almost two-hundred in emergencies. No holodeck, no science lab, no creature comforts, and we spent about six months aboard it, conserving energy and under cloak.”

"I see… So, while we're out trying to get home, a war is being fought…" She frowns.

"And won," Julian assures swiftly. "At a great cost, but won. Else I’d not be here."

"I can't imagine…" She whispers. "I think we'll have to ask more about that tomorrow."

"Probably a good idea," Julian tips the screen towards her. "I'll go pack - there's not much, but some of it's what I had with me from the future and I only promised to leave the Dermal Regenerator."

"Bring whatever you'd like; you heard me arrange quarters for you earlier."

"With my own sonic shower?" Julian regains a bit of humour.

"Yes and I hope you prefer sonics, we conserve as much water as we can." Kathryn smirks.

"I have missed sonics.”

Chakotay snorts. "That's the first time I've ever heard that said."

"It's a very different clean than you get from a water shower,” Julian shrugs, heading for the bedroom and not mentioning that some mornings, the feeling of hot water on his skin was more sensory input than he wanted to deal with, and at least if the sonics were working correctly even he couldn’t actually hear them.

Janeway starts looking over the plans. "I think I agree with your assessment about the timeframe, Doctor."

There’s a small thump as he grabs his suitcases down from their hiding places, before Julian sticks his head out of the bedroom. "I'd like to err on the side of caution - seven minutes sound good to you?"

"Probably better to go in as quickly as possible," Chakotay agrees. “We've worked with worse odds, and less time too," he reminds Kathryn.

Julian packs swiftly and quietly. A few books he’d known were missing from historical records. A signed baseball for Sisko - whenever he damn well came back. A few other items. Clothes, bolts of fabric he’d used to make his own clothes when the shop-styles had stressed him out too much. Medkit. Uniform. He reappears with one suitcase full and another ready to go. "Kitchen time: I'm packing the tea and the coffee first."

"Be careful - Kathryn has missed coffee far more than you have missed sonics." Chakotay’s tone is light and teasing, and tells Julian far more about their working relationship than he probably intended.

“The tea and coffee are not for me to drink it’s for me to bribe you two with,” Julian calls back, starting to haul out his stashes. “I did a big run the other day: America’s about to have a problem accessing some of these, what with the War in Europe right now, making shipping difficult.” Julian winces. “I’ve always hated this era of history.”

"…The Eugenics Wars have begun…" Chakotay recalls, shocking himself with the timeframe. Of course, he hadn’t realised. When they’d been on the waterfront, it hadn’t looked like a populace at war with anything or anyone - and Tom Paris hadn't brought it up. But then - or rather, now - America hadn’t yet been drawn into the conflict.

That would change, and soon.

“Yes. And yes, it’s been very tempting to go and kill Khan,” Julian affirms.

"I can imagine… but what a chain reaction that would start," Kathryn remarks, knowing full-well how personal that desire would have been for him.

“Which is why I’m still in America,” Julian answers her unspoken question, and shoved his own cooking equipment into the suitcase, the foodstuffs still in their containers.

“…that is an absurd amount of tea and coffee,” Chakotay murmurs, breaking a tension he didn’t fully appreciate.

"You weren't expecting us, were you?" Janeway asks, suddenly suspicious.

“No. As I said, I’m expecting shipping lanes to close in two days.” Julian nods at her. “Had I been expecting you, Captain, there would be at least double this amount. Fortunately, Mestral knows about the importance of coffee to an addict. He won’t leave it off the list of what he arranges.”

Chakotay eyes him. “Is that everything?”

“And the table you’re using. Everything else either isn’t mine or isn’t important enough for me to take with me,” He places the Dermal Regenerator into the cutlery drawer and shut it.

“You travel light,” Chakotay remarks - though of course, by Starfleet Standards having so many suitcases was a luxury. Most would simply replicate what they needed, but replicator usage was still and would likely always be under rationing aboard Voyager

“I wouldn’t try lifting the table,” Julian warns. "We'll have to have it beamed out."

“Probably sensible to use it and the suitcases on a trial run with the pattern enhancers up to Voyager before we head out for the mission,” Chakotay remarks.

"Good idea… so long as there isn't anything you're going to need immediately,” Janeway checked.

"We might need the table to plan, but that'll be it. Everything else we might need I've got in my messenger bag."

"Then this can be our testing ground," Janeway agrees.

"If Mestral sends supplies before we head out tonight, we may as well try beaming those up directly too," Bashir adds, picking up his now-cold coffee and sipping it slowly.

"Of course… though we'll start with something small in case anything goes wrong."

Julian smirks at her knowingly. "There's a sewing machine we could try it on. Because I know you don't want to try it on the coffee beans."

"That would be too high a risk." Kathryn smirks right back. “You’re quite certain we only met the once?”

“Completely,” Julian assures her.


	4. Chapter 4

Sneaking into the top floor of Chronowerx late at night was practically child’s play with the help of Aegis’ transporter.

Getting out, however, was significantly less so.

"Unable to get a lock-" Torres bites back a curse. "Captain, we've got the Timeship, but I can't get a lock on your new friend-"

"What do you mean you can't get a lock?" Kathryn asks, running over to Torres on Tactical as Harry reclaimed his Sensor station. "He has his commbadge, lock onto it.”

“I already tried that Captain, but he’s outside the range of the pattern enhancers, and we don’t have a transporter record for him specifically for the buffer to compare against. I could grab him but there’s no way he’d be alive once he’s aboard.”

“Voyager to Bashir,” Janeway calls. “Julian, get to the transport enhancers. We can't lock onto you."

“I’ll be there in a second Captain,” Bashir taps his badge and speaks quickly, aiming his phaser at a few things on the worktable. "You'd better get a lock on the pattern enhancers too, he's got the tech in here to reverse the transport using them. I'm destroying what's too big to fit in my bag."

"Not until you get down there too - that’s an order Bashir,” Janeway growls.

Julian grabbed the last few things his tricorder had picked up, then stuffed those into his bag too and dove for the workroom-

-only to hit the regenerated forcefield. Damn. "Captain, I’m not going to make it. Lock onto my bag and the pattern enhancers and not me so he can't reverse engineer anything else. I'll get out of here some other way." He shoves his tricorder and phaser into the bag quick as he could, and actually bothers with the zipper rather than just the cover and Velcro.

Torres blinks, but starts the process of getting that lock before Janeway could belay the order. Still risky, but a smaller, inanimate object was always easier for the transporter to take - she didn’t have to worry about it being alive at the end of it. Whoever this guy was, he had a point.

“We're not just going to leave you there Bashir." Janeway snaps, shooting Torres a look, but not commenting on her beaming out the bag.

"I'll forgive you if you do," Julian says wryly. "I'll get out of here. I promise. If I don't call within two hours, get me out from my apartment."

Janeway sighs and looks at the others. "All right... but you had better be there," she answers, not liking this one bit. They didn’t leave people behind – and damn it, she actually liked Julian Bashir.

“I don't break dates Kathryn - or let my CO down.”

“Captain, he's... transmitting on a different Starfleet frequency. I don't recognise it, but..." Harry starts clearing the scrambled signal. "It's- he's set his commbadge to one-way, somehow. He can't hear us, but we should be able to hear him just fine."

Chakotay raises an eyebrow. "I didn't think that was an option."

"I guess his badge is a little newer than ours," Kim shrugs.

"And we all have our little tricks for these things." Kathryn shakes her head. "Keep up with him Harry."

* * *

Julian taps off, then flicks his badge to 'Emergency Broadcast' and slides it into his shoe, before he pulling at the couch against the wall and jumping behind it.

Not a damned second too soon, he can hear the door open seconds later.

"Check the ship," Starling snaps, sitting in front of his computer and starting to type fast, only to get skulls from the infuriating UI. "Fuck. Whoever we're dealing with, they're who I've been expecting. They took all the plans and wiped the drives."

Julian smirks in his hiding-place. It was good to hear the systems crash he'd initiated had worked. That meant it would be too late to retrieve from the servers - and Aegis could deal with the Magnetic Tapes in longterm storage later.

Assuming they got to hear about it.

"Uh, Mr. Starling? ...The ship's gone,” says the second voice who’d come in with Starling. He didn’t sound too bright, which was depressingly stereotypical.

"What?"

Footsteps close to Bashir’s hiding place, and he winces, a bad feeling about this crawling up his back – but maybe if he stayed hidden…

No such luck. The hand descends and hauls him into the air by his collar almost effortlessly, and left Starling glaring at him. “Where did they take it?"

Double-damn. Not sneaky enough, "Whoa man, put me down, I dunno anything!" After eight years, Julian could manage an accent which was fairly passable for the location and era. "One minute I was walking down the street outside - and then these weirdos- I dunno man, they just said something about bait, and grabbed me, and then suddenly... I was here! I dunno how I got in, or how they got in, or anything! And one of them, he took off his hat, and he had like, blue hair and I think I saw tentacles or something in his hair, and he didn't have ears, and man, I was so freaked out, I hid." He lifts a finger. "Hey, whoa, you're Starling, right? Man I have been trying to book an interview with you for months!" Better than trying to play dumb. “Wait. If you’re Starling, then where the hell am I- dude, is this your office?”

"It is and you're an accessory. I don't buy that ‘just an innocent bystander’ act," Starling states. "I'm a very rich man and I can make your life a living hell."

“Like, probably? But there is that pesky First Amendment thing. Seriously, no chance of that interview?” Julian dangles slightly, letting the henchman holding him up bear the brunt of his weight. “I’ve been trying to get an interview with you for months, ask your receptionist about Bashir from the Times.”

"Even if you have been trying to get in here that doesn't mean you aren't a thief." Starling says, but nods and the henchman drops Bashir on the ground again.

“Man, take what, all I’ve got is my pen and paper and tape recorder on me-”

* * *

“I’d almost believe him if I didn’t know he was in on it,” Harry remarked as they listened to the exchange.

"He's had to put on an act for eight years." Chakotay points out.

“Even his accent’s changed,” Kathryn murmured. “Helm, how’s our cloud cover?”

"Better than it was. but we'll have to be careful..."

"Pull up if it gets too thin," Janeway said, after a pause that sounded like she didn't want to at all.

"The transporter would be better close." Torres said, and Janeway could feel watchful eyes on her.

"If we have to, we'll send a shuttle down for him," Janeway declared. “I’m not leaving Bashir down there.”

"Maybe he actually will get away." Harry offered, optimistic.

Well, it's nice to see that Tom's cynicism isn't rubbing off on Harry Kim, Janeway decided. "Maybe, Mr. Kim, but let's make the contingency plans regardless. Chakotay?"

"I'll go prep a shuttle. You, with me." Chakotay said, pointing to someone on the bridge then going down to the docking bay with them.

* * *

"He's clean Mr Starling."

"Hm. You forgot to mention the wallet."

"Yeah, well, the wallet has my press card and other ID in it, would I really be sneaking into here with something like that?"

"You were sneaking in here with at least two other people." Starling looks the man over.

"One other person and one creepy thing with tentacle hair dragged me in here more like," Julian complains. "Oh man, I must have blacked out. Hey, can people test for like if you've breathed in chloroform or something?"

"You have a headache?" Starling asks. "If the answers no then there wasn't any chloroform. And the security camera definitely make it look like you were in here of your own volition."

"I don't remember that man, but I do feel like I felt the time after the office Christmas party with the hypnotist who made me cluck like a chicken and man that was shit, I spent the next year being called chicken man." Julian opens his eyes comically wide. "Hoshit, you don't think I was brainwashed or something do you?"

* * *

"Sounds to me like he's describing someone like an Andorian," Harry’s voice has a laugh in it.

"Blue skin and antennae, sounds about right to me," Janeway remarks. "And probably not a species currently represented on Earth." She frowns. "Harry, open a channel to Tuvok."

"Yes captain?" Tuvok asks over the speaker.

"Tuvok, how do you feel about breaking into an office building?"

"I take it our new acquaintance is in trouble?" Tuvok doesn’t sound at all surprised, even by a Vulcan’s standards.

"Big time," Janeway replies. "Lieutenant Torres, how's that transporter coming along?"

“If we get close... and he can bring down that force field I can get him Captain... but maybe Chakotay can get him with the shuttle transporter."

* * *

"No one here is buying your story Bashir." Starling says lowly. this was getting ridiculous.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. Fine. Onto the next bluff. "We did not expect you to buy it for long. Master Singh would appreciate if you responded with more cordiality to his requests to treat with you." Julian lets his voice go back to his natural accent.

"Singh... you expect me to believe that a dictator is stealing from me?" Starling sneers.

"Not stealing. Borrowing. Since you're obviously not willing to listen to friendly conversation." It really helps that Julian's voice could do the same haughty drawl Khan occasionally pulled out for his public broadcasts, and Julian loathes himself for it. It helped all the more that he looked like one of Khan's followers. Oh the irony. "Master Singh is very interested in that small plane you had in your workshop. Some kind of stealth bomber? Impressive." He draws himself up to his full height solely to look down his nose at Starling.

"I haven't received any word from Singh or his people about any interest in borrowing anything. Where did you take my ship?" Starling demands. "It's-" he cuts himself off. "It's not finished yet. It will be extremely dangerous.”

"Oh dear, borrowed wasn't the right word was it. No, perhaps the word you'd appreciate might be 'held hostage'? Though of course, Master Singh’s patience is great, it is not infinite; he might decide to dismantle it."

"Dismantle? You'll never reverse engineer it... what in the hell does Khan even want? I work on technological innovation, not weapons... NO this is something else."

“Come now Mr. Starling, even the best-run military needs computers behind it in this day and age. And for Master Singh, only the best will do. And that means you.” Julian tuts.

"Your boss has never heard of making an appointment?" Starling snarls, then pauses.

Reflects.

No, with Rain detecting that ship in orbit? Something had to be connected.

“We both know he did try. Many times. And so in fact did I, though I suppose you might be forgiven for refusing to see a ‘lowly journalist’,” Julian continues unabated, accent going back to Californian on the last two words. He sneers, and takes out his pen, telegraphing each move. “How about that interview now, Mr. Starling?” His words are a haughty drawl as he twists his pen.

The wrong direction.

A short EM-pulse. It’d cut off his comms for a few seconds, but with luck...

* * *

Harry blinks. "Singh as in Khan?"

Janeway makes a shrug she doesn’t feel. "In the 1990s? It's a good idea for a bluff at least." Though she certainly wasn’t keen on the potential of letting a viper aboard her ship. "I'm not going to bet on him getting the forcefield down by the sounds of it." Janeway stands, trying not to pace.

"Is there any way we might knock the forcefield out?" Tuvok asks.

There’s a small commotion in the same vicinity of Tuvok’s commcall that sounded like a woman’s voice. “Forcefield? What the hell’s he talking about?”

“I’ll explain later,” Paris reassures her over the same frequency.

"Harry, any weak spots in that forcefield?" Janeway asks.

"Hang on I've got something," Torres snaps as the audio from Bashir cuts out, taking the readout on the forcefield with it.

“Beam him to the bridge Lieutenant,” Janeway orders.

* * *

It’s a rough beam.

Julian can feel how rough it is in the way his teeth don’t quite stop buzzing for a few seconds once he’s aboard, but the first thing he says is “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

“Permission granted, Lieutenant Commander Bashir. Do you need to get to the infirmary?" Janeway asks, looking him over and now it’s her turn to not bother hiding her relief.

“Thank you, but no, I'm not injured. Only my pride - I need a toothbrush, my mouth feels unclean from saying all that Khan stuff.” Julian shakes his head and shudders. “Well, that’s the Timeship down. Now for Braxton.”

“Helm, pull us up, high orbit again,” Janeway orders.

“Kim to Away Team, we’ve got Bashir. Kim to Shuttlecraft, we’ve got Bashir.”

Julian slips his commbadge from his shoe, flicked the broadcast off again before affixing it to his shirt, and only then does he click his pen the requisite three times. “Bashir to Mestral. Mission accomplished. Now we just need Braxton. There’s still an away team on the surface, would you be willing to work with them?”

"Of course... let me know where they are." Mestral replies.

"That was some quick thinking down there..." Torres remarks, lifting both eyebrows at the newcomer.

"I've had a lot of practice," Julian murmurs at her in passing - provisional Lieutenant, and oh how the hell did standard human eyesight read those ranks? - jumping up to read the coordinates from Kim's Sensor station, upside-down, and then swiftly giving the coordinates to Mestral. "We got the main servers too, but it'll be up to you to hit the magnetic tapes in long-term storage; I've got no idea where those are kept."

"I can take care of it," Mestral answers, and Julian knows his words for an absolute truth.

“Yeah, I hate leaving you in the lurch, but... oh, and he caught me. Didn’t get anything from me though.”

“I am sure he did not,” Mestral replies, and Julian could hear the fondness in the Vulcan’s voice.


End file.
